


Young, Dumb and Broke in Orlais

by VeePunz



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - Various Authors, Original Work
Genre: Dragon Age - Freeform, F/M, OC, Original Character(s), Orlais, The Grand Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 14:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18719347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeePunz/pseuds/VeePunz
Summary: 8:84 Blessed AgeOrlais, land of chivalry, arts and culture! … Or treachery, intrigue and petty revenge, depending on who you ask. The grand game extends itself even into the lowest circles of the peasantry. Some might say even so far that it has made an honest living next to impossible in this masked empire.The late Emperor Judicael Valmont II has died. He is, reluctantly, succeeded by his younger brother Florian Valmont. However, without an heir of his own and ever growing unrest in the occupied Ferelden, the future of his reign is most uncertain.Our story begins in the small town of Claireau, seated at the bottom of the Frostbacks in the Emprise du Lion. Travelers and Townsfolk alike have sought shelter in the warmth of the towns own tavern "The smiling Marigold" from a late spring cold front that has brought unexpected snowfall from the mountains.





	Young, Dumb and Broke in Orlais

Claireau was a quiet town, right at the border to Ferelden, though unbothered by the ongoing disputes with the neighboring country as it was sheltered by the Frostback Mountains. Especially at this time of year the mountain ridge was still near impossible to cross if one did not stick to the Imperial Highway further north. Heavy, unexpected snowfall and the creeping in dark of the night had forced Corbin to stay in this remote place, though he didn’t know if he fancied that turn of events. He wasn’t sure where he was headed, so a little break might force him to forge a more precise plan. Knowing where not to go was a start, but not a great one. He had already spent a night in the only inn in town, “The Smiling Marigold”, which even now in the early morning hours was filled to the brim with people milling about in the common room. He didn’t enjoy masses of people like that, though it wasn’t the real reason for his nervousness. Sitting idle and wasting time was causing him internal stress. After pressing his journey mercilessly hard the past days sleeping in a proper bed and enjoying a – admittedly still simple – breakfast made him feel like a sitting duck. His steel grey eyes were dancing from one person to the next, scanning the room in a paranoid fashion that had become a habit to him the past weeks. Similar to the fact that he always chose a table that made it easy to observe the whole room. Now though he rose from this safety spot of his, making his way towards the bar, successfully avoiding getting his tankard knocked out of his hand. With an audible thump Corbin sat said tankard down onto the bar, quickly catching the innkeep’s attention that way.   
“Messere, might I ask if there’s any place for a handy mercenary to find some work in this town?”   
Moving on quickly was a thought that didn’t leave the young man unbothered, but despite that eagerness to leave he was also too aware of his need for money. A one day job to at least earn a handful of coins wouldn’t hurt, would it? He’d be on his way soon enough.   
“Our small notice board not to your liking, dear friend?”   
The innkeep flashed him a lopsided grin, clearly used to making light conversation with his patrons.   
“Just like to know all my options before I decide on what to do”, Corbin retorted in his usual straightforward fashion, which in combination with his rather serious looking face made the smile of the innkeeper disappear. He wasn’t rude, but his first impression often struck people as slightly intimidating.   
“There’s a much bigger notice board at the town square, good Messere. Though while those jobs pay better, they are also much more difficult to handle.”   
“Thank you.” With that the young man turned his back on the other man, indicating that this conversation was over and done with. He lifted his tankard to his lips, intent on finishing off his light ale, but still keeping an eye on the people around him. Nothing suspicious was going on, but it didn’t ease the knot in his stomach.  
A light touch on his arm startled him just as Corbin set down the empty cup on the bar, about to leave. His eyes darted to the girl that had her hand still lying on his arm. She was pretty. It was something he couldn’t overlook with that warm, infectious smile that made the freckles on her cheeks dance. He was an idiot. Or clearly way too exhausted. Despite his focus on the common room he had fully neglected watching out for the people behind or close to the bar. It was careless and dumb. Only then did he realize that he had still not answered, his eyes wandering to the new, full tankard on the bar and back to the girl.   
‘Here you go, handsome, on the house.’, that’s what she had said.   
“That’s a very kind gesture, but actually I was just about to head out. I’m sure you’ll find a taker for the ale though.”   
The way her sunny expression turned into a slight pout about the refusal made it clear for him why she worked in a tavern. She was charming. Not just pretty. Her hair was already disheveled from serving too many tables at this hour, but it didn’t take away from her welcoming nature. She was clearly good with people. A talent he did not possess.   
“Tell you what. I'll leave this here, happen to it what may, and if those tired eyes of yours ever need a drink or a bed just come by and ask for Fleur.”   
She gave his arm a squeeze and threw a wink his way before swirling around and grabbing two heavy trays stacked with ales. Despite her petite frame she seemed to lift it with effortless grace, giving him a lingering look before hurrying off towards the shouts for drinks. That glance didn’t go unnoticed, but then again he wasn’t any better looking after her with curiosity in his eyes. Fleur. He would remember that name, since his way would most likely lead him back into the tavern tonight.  
With a last glance at the ale and a slightly disappointed sigh he pushed himself away from the bar and headed out of “The Smiling Marigold” towards the Claireau town square.

Long after sundown the young man found himself wandering through the streets of Claireau, mud and dirt clinging to him and the newly falling snow making sure he’d be at least damp before arriving back at the inn. His muscles were aching from bear hunting with two other travelers, who thankfully knew how to fight. It wasn’t a job he’d have picked if it hadn’t paid as well as it did. He knew a bit about hunting, but bears were frightening creatures and working together with strangers wasn’t something Corbin liked to do either. After that he had helped a merchant to stock up his warehouse, heaving heavy crates for a good few hours. He was indeed dirty and tired, but also content with the progression of his day. Entering the now familiar establishment the dark haired man only took a moment to observe the nearly empty common room before he went straight for the bar addressing the innkeep.   
"Good evening, Messere. This morning I was told I should ask for Fleur if I'm in need of a drink or a bed. I think I might need both."   
Corbin could clearly read recognition on the other man’s face, though it didn’t speak of joy at seeing this particular returning customer. The conversation this morning hadn’t left the best first impression it seemed, though admittedly Corbin was used to that kind of judgement by now.   
“Were you now…”   
The young man followed the innkeeper’s drifting gaze and promptly found the redheaded girl having a chat with the last group of patrons that seemed to be in the middle of a card game.   
“Very well then. The drink is on her, but the bed is gonna cost ya.”   
“Thank you. And of course.”   
While the man behind the bar filled up a mug for him, he fished out the appropriate amount of coins from his purse, sliding it over the counter and grabbing for the ale in a smooth motion. After that he paid no more mind to the other man, instead focusing his attention on the ale, taking a good, big gulp from it and enjoying how good that felt after such a long day of work. Instead of scanning the room as he always did he found himself shooting another glance towards the charming barmaid. Running after pretty girls really wasn’t who he was, but there was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And he couldn’t deny being grateful for a free mug of ale. With a quiet, content sigh Corbin closed his eyes, just for a moment enjoying the rare feeling of being okay. Though that soothing nothingness was as fleeting as always, making way for worried thoughts and paranoia. He had to get moving tomorrow morning, he had stayed too long already.<br />  
“You look like you had a day.”   
It was impossible not to hear the cheerful smile in the familiar voice. Opening his eyes he turned towards Fleur who had taken a seat right next to him at the bar.   
“You could say that, yeah. I can only imagine that you had quite the day yourself with working this late.”   
She’d been at it for hours, though she definitely didn’t wear her exhaustion as prominently on her face as he did. The cheeky cheerfulness hid fatigue quite well it seemed. Or she was just so used to her work that she knew how to spend her energy and how to reserve it for better things.   
“Thanks for the ale, by the way.”   
He lifted his mug in cheers to her and took a sip of the beverage.   
“You are certainly most welcome. I guess he made you pay for the room though?”   
The redheaded girl gave him an expression that made him wonder if the innkeeper had complained about him being rude or scary looking. After he gave her a quick nod she sighed, but a cheeky grin quickly returned to her face as she leaned over, putting her hand to the side of her mouth to shield her whisper into his ear.   
“But I can sneak you some cheese and bread later if you’d like.”   
A fine gesture like the ale already was something rare, getting more than a drink on the house was crazy to say the least. Though he appreciated the thought he couldn't help but wonder why she took so kindly to him. Nevertheless her whisper managed to do something that had not happened in a while: a slight smile curled his lips upward.   
“You are too kind, but it really isn’t necessary that you spend your little free time with sneaking me some food.”   
It was a nice offer, but Corbin couldn’t brush off his paranoia. Getting too involved with people was dangerous and he had already stayed too long. On top of that he could imagine that Fleur had better things to do than work after hours on an already endless day. The girl gave a soft chuckle before answering.   
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like anything happens around here… ever.”   
The young man found himself studying her face while she talked. Surely enough Claireau didn’t seem like the most exciting town you could find in Orlais. By now the barmaid was making herself comfortable on her spot, leaning her back against the bar and nodding towards the group of gamblers.   
“And once they finish up their game over there we’re about done for the day anyway.”   
The young man could feel how his curiosity was getting the better of him, but despite the fact that his tongue outran his better judgement for once he managed to keep his voice relatively level much like he would sound enquiring about the weather.   
“Nothing happens here, huh? Not even with the war that’s going on just on the other side of the mountains?”   
A question like that was hardly casual, but getting some information might be worth the risk of treading on fragile terrain like that. The look she gave him made her freckles dance once more, though not in a pleasant way as she was scrunching up her nose not only in thought but also in bewilderment. Corbin shot the gamblers a look, half to make sure those were all just simple village guys from around here and half to escape her searching blue eyes. The pause between them stretched on, making him regret mentioning the war in Ferelden. He should have kept his mouth shut.   
“Well you know… I mean sure there are troops passing by and you have the occasional wanted notes hung up at the town square, but it’s not like they actually would catch any rebel forces out here.”  
“I see”, the young man replied a bit too fast for his own taste, eager to cut the conversation he had brought upon himself short. His eyes lingered on the gamblers a little while longer before turning back to Fleur.   
“You don't seem entirely content with living in this not so exciting town or did I read that wrong?“   
Maybe it was just the rather normal wish for some change now and then, but somehow he just guessed that the young girl might not like to stay a barmaid forever. Words and conversation have never been his forte, so seeing her smile return as soon as the grim topic was dropped made him feel slightly more at ease again.   
"Of course not! Although I'm sure Monsieur and Madame Vigne would love to keep me I have much bigger plans."   
Her laughter that followed was like her smile. It made you want to share it and continue a conversation with her.   
“Claireau is nice and all but I got somewhere to be, so I'd like to think of this as a stepping stone."   
Corbin couldn’t help but study her once again. Bigger plans. Stepping stone, huh? She really was intriguing in an odd way, he had to admit that much.   
“I can see why they’d want to keep you.”   
It was an honest remark, spoken without much thought, so the second it came over his lips he wondered if he had said too much. The uncertainty made him go on talking.   
“So… you are going to leave sooner or later? I can imagine you don’t wanna be a barmaid for the rest of your life, even though you are pretty good at it.”   
That seemed to catch her off guard going by the perplexed look she gave him, studying him so intently that he felt he might have offended her. It made him feel queasy, remembering why he usually stayed away from conversation with strangers. His grip around his tankard grew firmer and he moved to take a sip to get his attention somewhere else. In the corner of his eye he could see her moving to speak, when –<br />  
“YOU DIRTY LITTLE BASTARD!”   
Scraping wood and clattering coins followed. Fleur gave a start, nearly jumping towards him, while he choked on the sip of ale, going into a restrained coughing fit. The young woman was on her feet staring towards the gambling bunch.   
“Did you really think you could cheat me?!”   
Great. A bar brawl.   
“Monsieur Yavin! Please!”   
And with that the redheaded girl rushed towards the fighting bunch, trying to intervene and probably to safe the inn and its’ interior. Though she wasn’t quite fast enough as a blow struck, sending one of the men to the floor who took the table with him. It was a proper, noisy mess and finally the rest of the gamblers sprang to action, helping the barmaid to sort the fight instead of leaving her to her own devices. Corbin had stayed slouched at the bar, unintentionally hunching his shoulders as the whole situation had taken a turn that made him feel out of place. Eventually though he decided to trail after Fleur, staying close should any of those drunkards get funny ideas. As the rest of the players had gotten a hold of the fighting two though it seemed that the situation was nearly under control again. Nearly, since Monsieur Yavin was livid and hard to restrain.   
The young man couldn’t help himself and leaned closer to Fleur, asking her in a hushed voice: “A regular?”   
“Madame Vigne’s brother…”   
The redheaded girl didn’t really pay attention to him, keeping her eyes warily on the kicking, screaming man that brought the innkeeper out of his kitchen, who was followed by his wife, who immediately launched into curses at her relative that made such a ruckus at this hour and in her inn. Corbin was shrinking into himself, all too aware that he stuck out like sore thumb. Too many people that all knew each other and he the only stranger. Too much commotion. So when he saw the young barmaid get down to grab for the fallen things, he promptly joined her, seeing it as the best opportunity to make himself unseen, but also helpful. Picking up cards wasn’t a difficult task, but the young man caught himself staring at some of the coins a bit too long. No. Not here, not now. He had earned enough today and this wouldn’t change a lot. He already had too much attention on him as it was. Though he couldn’t help but shoot the girl beside him a wary glance, which once again made him pause.   
Huh? Had she just…? It had looked suspiciously like she had slipped something into her boot. But why…? Corbin shook his head slightly, bringing his attention back to the current situation and scrapped together the last bits and pieces so he could hand them over to Fleur. She gave him a reassuring smile when he dropped the coins and cards into her hands and she quickly made the coins vanish into the big leather pouch that had served as the money pot during the game. For a moment his eyes lingered on her, still wondering if his imagination had run away with him or if she had really taken something. Once again he gave himself a push to stop acting weird, to look suspicious was the last thing he wanted right now. Getting to his feet he quickly turned to the table and heaved it into its’ original position before addressing Fleur in a soft voice, barely loud enough to be heard over the still ongoing discussion.   
“I feel like this is the moment where I should find my way to my room. Thanks again for the ale.”   
It was an odd moment in which they just looked at each other. The redheaded girl clutching the big money pouch to her chest and Corbin still hunching his shoulders as if he’d like to vanish from sight.   
“Ah yes, of course. Take the stairs, first floor, third room to the left is vacant and free for you to use and uhm…”   
She had raised one hand to point towards the wonky staircase in the corner, but now took it back towards herself, nervously brushing a strand of hair out of her face.   
“…have a good night.”   
There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, not really worth being called a smile.   
“You too.”   
He couldn’t push away the thought and curiosity about her pocketing something from the gamblers’ table, but since he could hardly ask a stranger to her face if she’d stolen something then and there, he turned and walked towards the staircase, more than ready to settle down for the night. A wary glance flitted towards the still fighting party, though he hoped that their heated argument had kept them from noticing him too much.  
Entering the small, simple room Corbin couldn’t help but sigh. What a day. Just one more night. Early tomorrow morning he’d be gone and would leave all this commotion behind. Quietly and carefully he took off his weapons, but kept them right there at his bedside, bow and quiver propped up in a way he could easily and quickly grab them. His dagger stayed on his belt. After his bag had landed on his bed he wriggled out of his heavy coat, throwing it on the small table right beside the door and kicked off his boots on the spot before going back over to his bed. Lying down onto it he grabbed for his bag again, pulling it close to his chest and curling up around it. Protecting the few things he had as well as he could. With the exhaustion weighing down his limbs it didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

Corbin couldn’t remember what sleeping well felt like, being too used to basically falling unconscious just to wake up a few hours later feeling as exhausted as before. His sleep was always light and he never slept long. Not to mention the occasional and all too familiar nightmares. Judging by the semi darkness in his room it was still early, the sun barely on its rise. He could hear footsteps down below and in the hallway outside his door, not wondering about that as it was an innkeeper’s daily bread to rise early.  
What did startle him was the sudden knock on the door. Like a reflex his hand snapped to the dagger on his back, his eyes open wide, trained on the door as he pushed himself upright.   
“Good Messere…”   
The young man didn’t even have the time to open his mouth as the door was pushed open without awaiting an answer. It made him frown and the grip on his dagger tightened, only to be struck by utter confusion as he saw the innkeeper standing in the door. Well, that was rude.   
“… pardon the early intrusion, it is just that…”   
The words of the other man trailed off into what seemed like stunned silence. The dark haired man on the bed had let go of his dagger, putting his feet down onto the wooden floor and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed, taut as a bowstring. Only then did he realize that the innkeep was staring at the small table beside the door, face incredulous and turning a deeper red by the second. It wasn’t hard to see what had caught the other man’s attention, since it caught his own as well: a pouch of money, sloppily tossed on the table so coins were spilling out. It wasn’t his. The frown on Corbin’s face deepened, his fingers digging into the bedframe, his eyes following the innkeep’s movements. His hand was going for the pouch, pulling out a locket from among the coins.   
“Seems like our good Messere did not like our noticeboard, but still wanted to earn a bit of extra coin from our fine establishment.”   
It was a clearly offended snarl towards the young man, now fixing him with an angry stare. This hardly made any sense to Corbin. He was stunned by the leather pouch being in his room. It was not his and whoever put it there had managed to not wake him from his light sleep, which was disconcerting and kind of impressive.   
“I beg your pardon, but this must be some kind of misunderstanding”, Corbin retorted in a cold, steady voice, knowing full well he had run into some sort of mess, but not being able to determine the extent of said mess yet. Monsieur Vigne’s face was fully red by now, his hand closing around the locket tightly as he waved his fist at the young man.   
“You damn scoundrel! I should have known! You were the only other person there yesterday. But to think you were stupid enough not to piss off during the night or at least hide this…!” A realization struck Corbin: the gamblers! But… this wasn’t their pouch, nor had he seen where it had been hidden after the whole commotion. The locket though must mean something to this gentleman. He was still missing some pieces to solve this puzzle… Nevertheless this was ridiculous.  
“She’s gone! I can’t find our dear Fleur anywhere!” It was Madame Vigne’s voice, shrill and hysterical, her footsteps coming closer quickly. She seemed ready to break out into tears and more whining, but the grim expression on her husband’s face made her hesitate. Her eyes flitted from her husband’s outstretched arm to Corbin, back to her husband and finally to the table. She let out a wail that made the young man tense up even more.   
“What did you do to our sweet, sweet girl, you… you dirty, foul…!”   
Corbin slowly getting to his feet had cut her short. His face must have worn a very dark expression, which in combination with drawing himself to his full height made the innkeeper’s wife work her mouth silently. Despite his imposing exterior he could feel panic squeezing his lungs and his mind racing to find a way out of this mess. “This was in your room, this proves your guilt, we will call the authorities and let them deal with a dirty bastard like you!” Corbin barely listened to the curses of the shorter man. Something in the back of his mind had suddenly pushed itself into the center. ‘Bigger plans. A stepping stone.’ He thought his teeth must have made an audible sound as he grinded them together. That cunt. The Vignes flinched as the tall, young man threw his bag in front of their feet.   
“Go ahead. Search my things. Because – let me guess – you are missing more than just that pouch, but I don’t have any of your things. I only have the money I earned yesterday and the fitting work contracts with it.”   
Their little sweetheart barmaid had taken the money pot. But they would not believe a word out of his mouth. He was a stranger, grumpy looking and filthy. Why would they blame a pretty girl instead of him? For a moment Monsieur Vigne looked as much like a fish on land as his wife had a few seconds before, working his mouth but not finding the right words.   
“That doesn’t make you less guilty, you could have hidden the rest somewhere!”   
Corbin raised an eyebrow at that comment. The innkeeper was grasping for straws, but it didn’t make any difference. They had set their minds to having him named the culprit. It didn’t matter if there were inconsistencies, it didn’t matter, because a stranger was easily made a scapegoat.   
“Tell you what: Lock me in my room and tell the authorities to come collect me if you still don't believe what I say. I have nothing to hide and am sure I can prove my innocence. I don't want any trouble, I'll cooperate I promise.“   
The words came slowly over the young man’s lips, carefully picked, his voice held level in a way that suggested he was not a threat. It was difficult to keep his fury out of this. The couple paused, staring at him before turning towards each other, launching into hushed, frantic whispers. Corbin nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another, his eyes quickly darting over to his bow and quiver and back to the couple. He hoped they wouldn’t take too much notice. Losing his weapons was not an option. In the end it seemed that the Vignes had come to the conclusion that locking him in his room would be the safest bet. They didn’t wanna risk a physical confrontation with him and bringing in the guards to deal with him seemed like a good idea, especially if he’d stay still like a trapped mouse. The innkeep grabbed the stolen goods from the table before leaving the room, his eyes constantly trained on Corbin, who had not moved an inch. Like a statue he stood there, his eyes on the closing door, but what he was really waiting for was the click of the key in the lock. There it was. The young man held still, breathing, counting. Of course they had no interest in letting him prove his innocence and to be honest he had no idea how he was supposed to do that anyway. After about a minute he started moving, bare feet gliding over the wooden floor like cat’s paws. He threw his coat on, slung his bag and bow and quiver over his shoulders and grabbed his boots as he made his way over to the window. After slipping on his footwear he opened the window, making his way out into the cold morning air.

The clear priority had been to get out of the inn and out of Claireau without being seen. But after he had managed that he found himself hesitating. The anger at being played like that still shook him and before he knew it he was looking for tracks. Corbin refused to be used as a stepping stone and seeing as he had been an important part in this scheme he might as well demand part of the earnings. It must have been quite the sum to justify making such a fuss about it and that alone was motivation enough to try to follow Fleur. Corbin had to admit that following her tracks wasn't the easiest thing to do. Apparently she knew how to throw people off, but so did he. Thankfully it was still early morning, which minimized other tracks interfering with hers and it made her head start not quite as big as she was probably hoping for. After finding his way to the tiny merchants' harbor he was starting to get a good idea of what she was pulling off. He could thank the past months for that knowledge. Knowing her plan helped, but he still had to keep his attention focused hard, after some time though Corbin found what he was looking for: more tracks on the other riverbank. Those made the choice of swimming across worthwhile, as being drenched in the cold early spring weather at the foot of the Frostbacks was definitely not his favorite thing. At least crossing the river also meant that he was far harder to track for the people from Claireau, though he could barely imagine a tiny village like that putting so much effort into finding him. Anger kept him moving smoothly despite all the discomfort. There was money to be had and he wouldn’t simply take this farce.  
The trail he was following had lead him into the forest at some point and by now he got the feeling that his relentless chase had brought him quite close to the girl that had tricked him. Following his gut feeling he slowed his steps, making sure he’d not startle her with noisily stomping on twigs and through brushes. He also unslung his bow and pulled an arrow out of his quiver. Hurting her was not what he intended, but he’d not face her empty handed, rather trying to play off of his intimidating grumpy face – that now clearly showed an angered expression – and make her give up part of the money thanks to fear. The arrow was nocked, loosely propped in its place, ready to be used.  
Corbin dropped even lower in his hunched over position when noises drifted towards him. He couldn’t quite place it, but he was sure he heard some labored breathing. And sure enough a few seconds later he could make out that curly shock of red hair, cowering on the forest floor and… digging? His bow came up, the arrow being drawn back, the fletching brushing his cheek. He kept his weapon trained at her back, but stopped in his tracks, a safe distance away from her. Straightening up into a proper position though shifted his weight, making twigs crack under his boots. At the same moment as she flinched, Corbin started talking.   
“What a cheap trick, mademoiselle.”  
The young woman didn’t give him a lot, her movements becoming rigid the second she heard his voice. Ever so slowly she straightened her back, though she didn’t turn around. The seconds stretched on feeling like an eternity.   
“Whatever do you mean, my good Messere?”   
Fleur kept her voice level, a sweet note to it as if she’d just enjoy a bit of banter with him at the bar. It sent a hot wave of anger through Corbin’s body, who simply barked a humorless laugh.   
“I think the time for playing dumb is over. I honestly couldn't care less for why you did what you did, but you dragged me into your little scheme. And now all I’m asking is, since I have been part of your plan, to get part of the earnings as well."   
It seemed a fair deal to him. He had taken a few steps while talking, carefully stalking closer while maintaining a safe distance. Not too close. She just had to know he couldn’t miss his shot. But he didn’t take her as helpless. Not anymore at least.   
“I'm sure by now you realized that I got an arrow pointing at your neck. I don't like to hurt or kill people, but neither do I like being forced into the center of attention like that.”   
Let this trouble be worth something. If it honestly was as much money as the innkeepers had hinted at he could add quite a bit to his savings.  
As the tense situation dragged on, no one moving too quickly so to not startle the other person, Corbin got a glance at what she had been digging up. It looked like another big leather pouch. More money? How much fucking money did this brat have? His eyes shot back to Fleur as she slowly got to her feet, turning only slightly towards him in the process. She moved carefully as if testing how much movement would get her shot.   
"Well a good partner would have played his part and not run off at the first sight of trouble now would he? I don't owe you anything seeing as how you decided not to play along."   
There was no sweetness left in her voice. With a cutting edge she made clear that she was as done with playing games as he was.   
"A good partner would have shared her plans", Corbin countered with a cold expression.   
"I don't see you being in a position to negotiate. Hand me that damn pouch. I want some good compensation for the shit you pulled on me. You are not the only one who can use some money."   
His voice was only a snarl by now, getting tired of this back and forth. He didn’t care for her reasons, her snappy comments or the fact that she’d much rather hold onto all of her money. She could keep part of it, but marking him as the fool would still cost her dearly.   
"A good player never reveals their hand, but fine. You want some money? Come get it yourself."   
She wiggled her hips slightly, making a small satchel on her right side jingle. It made his already dark expression grow even fiercer. What kind of fool did she take him for? Honestly, he should just shoot the mademoiselle in the leg to keep her put and take the compensation that was due to him.   
“Throw it over.”   
Moving closer to her was too dangerous, she’d pull something again, he could basically feel that she wasn’t done with all her games yet. She was just changing up which rules to play by. This was so exhausting. Why couldn’t she simply give him part of her money and piss off? It’s not like he wanted to get involved even more, but if he had to go through all this trouble he could at least make it worthwhile. He simply couldn’t pass up on the opportunity of making a big amount of money in one go.   
Another silent moment stretching on, before lovely Fleur declared: "I'm gonna drop the bark now, so don't shoot me."   
The big piece of wood she had used to dig up the rest of her money fell to the floor as she slowly started turning towards him. Her hands halfway raised in a placating gesture she moved towards her bag that had been lying just a few inches away from her feet, giving him glances to make sure he’d allow her to do what she was going for. Corbin didn’t only keep his arrow, but also his eyes trained on her, trying to read her movements and wondering what she was up to. There was no way in hell that she’d comply that fast all of a sudden. He saw her hands digging into the bag, lifting a familiar leather pouch. The money pot. No tension or suspicion prepared him for what happened next.  
One of her hands darted out of the bag in a throwing motion. All Corbin could make out in that split second was a small object. Some instinct in the back of his mind made him relax his arms to not loosen the arrow and accidently shoot her as thick, heavy smoke suddenly enveloped the surroundings accompanied by a hissing noise. One hand came up to pull his scarf over his face, the other holding both arrow and bow. There was no hesitation as his instincts took over, making him bolt forward in a crouched position, trying to get out of the smoke and to follow Fleur. That little shit had thrown a smoke bomb at him. His eyes were stinging and watering, but he kept charging forward, hoping with gritted teeth that the ground would not trip him up. It wasn’t early morning anymore, but the sun didn’t have any chance against the thickly grown treetops, keeping the air still crisp and cold in the forest. The earth was soggy and even when Corbin finally broke out of that damn smoke, light mist kept covering the ground. His eyes darted around, still squinting and trying to ignore the painful effect that her little trick had had on him. Once more she had a head start, but she was neither out of sight nor out of earshot. Corbin pressed on, hoping the dodgy floor of the woods would give her as much trouble as him. It didn’t take long until he felt sweat making his shirt stick to his back. The cold air was burning his lungs. But the young man wasn’t done yet, his feet flying over muddy ground, his strides getting just a bit wider to make sure he wouldn’t lose the girl out of sight. She was fast, he’d give her that. But he was used to pressing on through exhaustion, pushing himself hard when desperation was taking a hold of him. All of a sudden he saw Fleur taking a sharp left turn. Maybe this was his chance. Corbin changed up his path as well, following her left turn or more precisely trying to intercept her newly chosen path. It forced the young man to jump over a fallen tree trunk, but even without that hindrance he wouldn’t have managed to cut off her way. She was simply still too far away. It made him curse under his breath, until he realized something: there was a glimpse of light in the direction Fleur was heading. Was she trying to get out of the forest? Maybe that could help him. Maybe he could catch up with less dodgy ground beneath his feet.  
Though what followed was something neither of them had expected. Corbin came to a sliding halt as he saw that Fleur had stopped in her tracks, his free hand snapping towards his weapon, nocking the arrow properly onto the bow, but not yet drawing it. It took him a second to take in the scene and to realize what had just happened. They had broken out of the woods alright, but the redheaded girl had miscalculated her escape route as she was now standing at the edge of a cliff. Blood was rushing in his ears nearly as loudly as the water beneath.   
“Why by Andraste's dirty knickers do you have to make it this hard for the both of us? I just want a share. Keep the rest of your stash, I don't care.“   
Corbin was panting, struggling for breath even while talking. Fleur wasn’t doing much better. She had swirled around fixing him with a stare that was somewhere between disbelief and fury. Sweat was making her hair stick to her face, but she squared her shoulders nonetheless. Her eyes flitted to his bow. Corbin didn’t like the corner he had worked himself into. Threatening her like that didn’t feel right. Stupid. He should have walked away when he still could. Notice board jobs would have been fine, right? But just thinking about that heavy pouch of money… maybe a small fortune, just like that. He was in too deep by now.  
Fleur was edging back, dangerously close to the perilous drop behind her. As she realized how exposed she was to that threat she turned halfway, leaning out over the edge, peering down below into what sounded like a thunderous stream. There was an odd hesitation. Then he saw the look in her eyes as she glanced back at him. Maker have mercy.   
“Don’t.”   
It was barely more than a whisper. And then things went way too fast. The redheaded girl was clutching her belongings to her chest, a look of angry defiance on her face and with that she turned and leapt, pushing herself as far away from the cliff as she could. It was like her fall pulled him towards the edge, it made him rush forward instantly, but he only caught sight of the splash as she went underwater.   
“No, you FUCKING didn’t!”   
A frustrated scream made its way out of his throat while he slammed the arrow back into the quiver. His eyes darted downstream. There was only one way she could go, swimming against that roaring stream was simply impossible. He ground his teeth and started running, slinging his bow around his shoulders. Sprinting along the cliff he tried to keep an eye out for that foolish girl who had suicidally thrown herself into the river. In too deep indeed.


End file.
